>>84708
>Exit your machine

>>84708
>Exit your Machine
No one left behind.

>Exit.
We're the good guys damnit, we don't leave people behind.

>>85058
You reach over and pull the release on your hatch. It gasps as the cabin depressurizes, and you climb out.

The air on the planet is cold and dry, much like Terra, or so you've heard. You've never been to the human homeworld, but the legends about it are what made you join the New Republic in the first place.

You hop down, landing in the mud and plashing a bit of it all the way up to your stomach. Your pilot suit will need cleaning, but oh well. You approach the man hanging from his cockpit, and lean in to hear him.

"H-hey. Th-thanks for coming. M-my legs are fucking b-broken, man. I'm barely h-h-holding on. P-pull me out, p-p-p-please..."

You can tell he is losing consciousness, and probably a lot of blood. It'll be tricky to get him out of the wreck in the mud and dark. Suddenly, as you consider the right way to tackle this task, you see lights shining not too far. It's enemy mounts. You have precious seconds.

>Drag the pilot out
>Get back to your machine
>Put a bullet in his head
>Write-in

>>85215
>Put a bullet in his head
Then
>Get back to your machine

>>85331
You reach into your hip holster and produce your service pistol. The other pilot doesn't even see it coming.

As the shot rings out and his body goes limp, you replace the weapon and run back to your mount, climbing in just as the enemy forces come within range to fire weapons. They unleash a hail of bullets, each plinking off of your machine as you rush to get moving again. Just when you are back in motion, one of them hits the power line to your left arm and leaves your primary weapon, a light machine gun, useless. All you have is the grappler arm now.

You speed away, and try to get into the thicker part of the forest before they hit your power cell, or worse, the line to your legs.

A ways in, some of your comrades begin to appear, held back by low power or the terrain. They assist you by opening fire on the enemy, but you are outnumbered and outgunned. You cannot take them on like this.

>Leave them
>Fight with them
>Order them to fall back with you
>Write-in

>>85805
>Order them to fall back with you
An orderly, organized retreat. Remind your companions that if we break and flee in blind panic, the enemy will show us no mercy.

>>85805
While the other mechs cover you, withdraw with one of the more functional mechs, then swap vehicles with them.

That way we'll get a working machine gun arm.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>85922
>>85937

>>85937
You ask one of the other pilots to come with you to swap your machine with his. He considers it, likely in hopes of getting to retreat sooner, but as you attempt to fall back together, one of the enemy machines appears from your flank, and unleashes a grenade from his shoulder mounted launcher. The pilots covering the two of you are too slow to react, and take the full force of the explosion. As shrapnel flies past you, the pilot you had hoped to switch with flees in fear, leaving the line to scatter like bugs.

The enemy begin opening fire once more, leaving you barely enough time to duck behind the nearest tree and continue making for the ship. Rounds tears through the night air, striking you several times and setting of your critical damage alarm. Your mount is leaking coolant, and low on power.

>Get out and flee on foot
>Keep moving toward the ship
>Write-in

>>86160
>>Keep moving toward the ship

>>86160
>Write-in
Don't abandon your allies, keep fighting and hope to negotiate a surrender with the enemy.

>>85805
MOVE IT SOLDIER THIS IS A LOST CAUSE

>Get out and flee on foot

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>86173
>>86196

>>86196
You turn back and face the enemy. There must be at least twelve of them now, converging on you with intent to kill. You look around for anything you can use, and find a sizeable branch from a destroyed tree. You lift it up in your grappler arm, and duck behind another trunk as you wait for one of them to come closer.

As soon as one of them is within striking range, you pop out of cover and bash him hard with the branch. His machine turns aside, the servos grinding in their attempt to keep balance, affording you a chance to grab hold of him and pull him in too close for his gun to serve him.

>Eject the pilot
>Kill the pilot
>use him as a shield while you retreat
>Write-in

>>86556
>use him as a shield while you retreat
Are there any other friendly mechs around?

>>86556
>>use him as a shield while you retreat

Then, if they don't shoot up his mech too bad, we can swap.

>>86556
>Eject the pilot

We surely can use his mech?

>>86599
You hold his machine up using the grappler arm and fall backward toward the ship again. The pilot attempts to escape, but his machine was built to be light and fast, and your arm is more than enough to hold him in place as you reverse at top speed. The enemy mounts fire on you for a while, but don't want to kill an ally, and elect to merely follow you for a while.

Eventually you find more allied troops, and can even see the ship in the distance. They begin firing on the enemy, forcing them back and allowing you to throw the captured pilot to the ground and rip off his weaponized arm. You can use the grappler to fire his weapon without a direct uplink, but it will be terribly hard to aim. Still, it's better than nothing, and you join the others in full retreat.

Finally, you get to the ship, but as you do the enemy begin closing in, firing on it to breach the engines before your comrades are done loading in.

>Climb in, you're in no shape to fight
>Cover the retreat, let the wounded and disabled escape first
>Write-in

>>86934
>Cover the retreat, let the wounded and disabled escape first
Leave no man behind.

>>86934
>Cover the retreat, let the wounded and disabled escape first


>>87007
We already did, remember the man we shot?

>>86934
>Cover the retreat, let the wounded and disabled escape first

God damn it why do we always have to be the hero?

I WANT TO LIVE

>>87063
Mercy kill. That [I]was[/I] not leaving a man behind.

>>86934
>Cover the retreat, let the wounded and disabled escape first

>>87224
You raise the weapon and open fire. The spray of bullets rips through the air and hits a few of the incoming enemy mounts, but you can't fight the recoil well enough to stop them advancing, albeit slow.

Soon most of your comrades are on board, leaving a few of you on defense. You climb up the ramp, emptying your magazine before tossing the gun aside and ducking into the hangar. Bullets strike the hull of the ship, plinking off and leaving scratches and dents all over as the hangar door swings up and begins to shut.

The ship takes off suddenly, likely due to an overeager pilot at the helm. You reach out for something to hold on to, grabbing a bit of ship as the g-force attempts to pull you out of the hangar. The enemy gathers below, continuing to fire on you and your comrades as the doors seal shut, and the hangar is pressurized. You breath a sigh of relief as things go quiet.

>Exit your machine and check the damages
>Lean back in your seat and rest
>Call your CO
>Write-in

>>87379
>Lean back in your seat and rest
Just so we're on the same page here.... don't tell me we actually left people behind. If we did, change my option to
>Punch the pilot in the face

>>87411
This punch the pilot in his fucking gabber

Idiots like him leave too many men behind

>>87411
You lean back and let your heart rate fall to a survivable pace. Then you hear the radio come alive.

"Osprey, this is Squad Nine, we are en route to the ship, please do not lift off!"

You look over to the side of the hull. Osprey is stenciled there, indicating that this is the ship they were headed for.

"We're sorry, Squad Nine, we are heading up already. You'll have to find another ship."

"What!? There are no other ships! Please, don't leave us here!"

"We can't turn back now, Squad Nine, you'll just have to-"

"Get the hell back here! At least provide suppressive fire!"

The pilot says nothing. The captain of Squad Nine continues to scream and beg for help, but is soon cut off by a loud noise. You look out at the other troops and pilots in the hangar. They all heard it. And none of them will do more than look at their feet and grimace.

>Find the pilot
>Curl up and think about home
>Write-in

>>87715
>Find the pilot

>>87715
>>Find the pilot

>>87740
You exit your mount, hitting the floor with both feet. You wobble a bit as the adrenaline wears off, and begin making your way to the front of the ship, in search of the pilot who was so eager to leave behind an entire squad of troops. As you reach the end of the hangar, two soldiers bar your way. You tell them you just want to speak to the pilot, but they refuse to let you through.

"You need to sit back down. You're tired. We all are. Get some sleep."

>"Fuck you."
>"Fine."
>Write-in

>>88162
>"Fuck you."

>>88162
>Fuck you cowards.

>>88162
Collapse right there.

We need sleep right away.

>>88162
>>"Fuck you."

>>88194
You curl your hand into a fist and bash one of them on the side of the head. He stumbles back and slams into the wall before you realize what you've done, and the other jumps to restrain you. Some of the others stand and begin rallying. Most are for peace after the hard fought battle on the surface. Others are just as upset about leaving comrades to die. Soon it evolves into a brawl, as men slug one another out of anger and frustration. This ends when one of the officers pulls out his pistol and fires a round into the air. Normally, you'd call him an idiot for firing that thing in a pressurized chamber like this, but the noise is loud and shocking enough that it merely stops the fight and draws everyone's attention.

"That's enough! Nobody is happy about this! But killing each other doesn't bring anyone back! All of you sit the fuck down, and get some fucking rest! We're not out of the shit yet."

>Follow orders
>Tell him to suck your cock
>Get in one last punch
>Write-in

>>88265
>>Get in one last punch

But hit yourself.

We're partially to blame for this.

>>88265
>Tell him to suck your cock
>Also to enjoy writing the letters

>>88265
>Follow orders

>>88265
>Tell him to suck your cock
>wink at him

>>88362
You tell the officer to get bent, angering him even more. He orders some of the others to grab you, which they do, and has you dragged over to the side of the hangar and lashed to the wall. You struggle to break free, to no avail.

The hangar falls deathly silent now, as people mourn and fall asleep. You start to drift off yourself, thinking of the fields and forests of your home. A home you may finally get to see once more.

Suddenly there is a loud bang, and the ship rocks to one side, sending several people flying. You wake up, muscles sore, and look around for a sign of what's wrong. Then the PA comes alive.

"Attention, we have been engaged by enemy fighters. All passengers brace for evasive maneuvers." The ship then twists to one side, and people slide along the floor as loud explosions echo outside.

You try to grab on to the side of the ship for support, but your arms and legs are wobbly, and you can barely hold yourself still. There is another loud bang, followed by wild rocking and another bang.

"We've been hit! Starboard engine is down! I repeat, starboard engine down!"

Them officers try to contain the panic in the room now, but everyone is too afraid to calm down.

>Pray
>Remain calm
>Try to free yourself
>Write-in

>>88513
>Write-in
Ask someone to help free you
If not
>Try to free yourself

>>88513
>Pray
Save me Space-Jesus!

>>88513
>Try to free yourself

>>88513
>Try to free yourself
>Seriously if we're going to crash can I at least get to my god damn mech!


Getting a mix of Mechwarrior2 Mercs opener and Mechwarrior 3 campaign start here QM.

>>88554
You bite at the strap keeping you lashed to the side of the ship. You struggle with everything you've got to bite through it, almost chipping a tooth, but eventually ripping it enough to yank yourself loose. By the time you do however, the ship is hit once more, and the hangar is subject to explosive decompression. The hull rips open, sending a half dozen men screaming out of the hole, along with one of the mounts. Others run to find something to hold on to.

The hole increases in size as debris is pulled through. The cold of the atmosphere leaks in, chilling you. You reach out and grab onto a pipe, but another direct hit loosens your tired grip and sends you rolling toward the breach.

>Grab onto someone
>Grab onto something
>Grab onto a mount
>Write-in

>>88648
>Grab onto a mount

>>88648
>Grab the mount

>>88648
>>Grab onto a mount
>if someone flies by or is close grab them too.

>>88665
You reach out and grab hold of the nearest mount. You are just able to hang on, and as the decompression finally settles, you notice the oxygen in the hangar beginning to fail. Anyone not in their mount begins to struggle for breath, including you, but you decide to remedy the situation very quickly.

You climb up and slide into the mount, sealing it and turning on the air filter, restoring your ability to breath freely. This is followed by one last hit to the Osprey, which rips open the breach even more, and sends you and half of the troops inside tumbling out.

You enter freefall, tumbling and spinning helplessly as the Osprey climbs slowly toward the atmosphere. You scream, forced to watch the troops around you blown to pieces by enemy fire as fighters zoom around you like wolves on the hunt. You try to fire your weapon at them, but it's nearly impossible to aim while falling, and before too long you run out of ammunition. Then, you see something approaching from below. It's the ocean.

Then everything goes dark.

>>88928
BREATH

>>88928
You awake in your bed. The morning sun shines through the drawn blinds, filling the room with a warm, soft light. Your heart is still racing from the nightmare, and you take a moment to steady your breathing. After you feel ready, you sit up and look around.

It's the same bedroom as always. Same wooden walls, same fur rug, same photos on the dresser, and same smell of perfume and deodorant

You lay back down, staring at the ceiling for a minute before turning your head to the side to see a woman, snoring peacefully as she drools into her pillow.

>Wake her
>Leave her
>Write in

>>89046
>>Wake her

>>89046
>wake her up

>>89046
>Write in

WAKE UP

>>89092
You reach over to her and shake her awake. Her eyes open, and she reaches a hand up to wipe her mouth.

"Hm? Something wrong babe?"

>"I had the dream again."
>"No. Nothing."
>"It's time to feed the kids."
>Write in

>>89148
>"No. Nothing."
>"It's time to feed the kids."

>>89148
>"It's time to feed the kids."

We family man now

>>89148
>"It's time to feed the kids."

>>89165
You tell her the kids are probably hungry, and she groans.

"I guess. Why did we even have them if they're so much trouble?"

>"Because I love you."
>"Because we were too cheap to buy rubbers.'
>"Because you have a fetish for leg-lock"
>Write-in

>>89259
>"Because I love you."
and
>"Because you have a fetish for leg-lock"

>>89259
>"Because you have a fetish for leg-lock"

>>89148
>Write in
"Why were you drooling on OUR pillow? You're disgusting"

>>89259
>>"Because you have a fetish for leg-lock"

>>89259
>Because I have a fetish for leg-lock

>>89292
"Ugh, I do."

The two of you rise and get dressed for the day, all the while trying not to dwell on the fact that you could both go for a good romp in the sheets right now. Just as you're about to pull on your shirt, you feel a cold hand touch your side. She's feeling the scar again. She seems attracted to the wounds you got in the old days, but this one was always her favorite. It's the one you got when the servo on your mount's arm blew out on impact, and sent a shard of steel into your side.

"Babe, did I ever tell you you're pretty hot?"

>"Shut up, baby, I know it."
>"Not enough."
>"Wanna do it?"
>Write in

>>89355
>"Not enough."
>"Wanna do it?"

>>89355
>"Not enough."
>"Wanna do it?"

>>89355
>"Shut up baby,"
>"Wanna do it?"

>>89355
>>"Shut up, baby, I know it."

>>89387
After a quick fifteen, and dressing into a new set of clean clothes, the two of you make your way out of the bedroom and toward the kitchen. To your surprise, your son and daughter are already eating. Eggs and toast, simple but effective. Your daughter even prepared enough for the two of you.

"Good morning, mother, father," she says, cheeks red and eyes focused on her plate.

"Morneen" says your son, shoveling food into his mouth sloppily. Your wife goes to make a pot of coffee while you watch your daughter's increasingly red face.

>"Something wrong, dear?"
>"Chew your food, son."
>Get some cofee
>Eat something
>Write in

>>89547
>>Get some cofee

We distant dad now.

>>89547
>"Something wrong, dear?"

>>89547

>"Something wrong, dear?"
>"Chew your food, son."
>Get some cofee

>>89547
>>"Something wrong, dear?"

>>89643
"No, nothing. Nothing at all," she says, stabbing her fork violently into her eggs. You look to your wife, who shrugs.

After a cup of hot coffee and a little toast, you ask about what needs to be done today.

"Well you still need to fix that broken window, and it would be nice if you could go into town and pick up some eggs."

You agree, and stand from the table, picking up your plate and taking it to the sink to wash. As you approach the basin, you look out the window and see something across the field, approaching the house. It appears to be a man, dressed in blue. You watch for a while longer, and realize who he is. The uniform he wears is that of the New Republic, branded rebels and terrorists years ago by the Federation Fleet.

>Tell the kids to hide
>Go out to greet him
>Act natural
>Write in

>>89918
>Tell the kids to hide
>Go out to greet him

>>89918
>Tell the kids to hide
>Act natural

>>89918
>act natural

This option seems incompatible with telling the kids to hide btw.

>>89918
>>Tell the kids to hide
>Act natural

>>89947
You tell the kids to go to their rooms and stay quiet. They seem confused, and rightly so, but when you shoot your wife a look to assure her that you're serious, she reinforces the order, and they scurry off.

You clear the table and scrub the dishes quickly to hide any trace of them, then sit down with your wife and pour coffee for the two of you. Not a minute later, there is a knock at the door.

>Answer it
>Ask her to answer
>Write in

>>90218
>Answer it, my wife aint getting killed.

>>90344
Seconded,

>>90218
>Answer it

>>90344
You get up from the table and head for the door. You try your best not to panic as you remember the war, and your place in it. It isn't until there is a knock at the door again that you realize you've been standing stone still in the entryway for a minute, frozen by stress. You swallow, and reach for the knob.

On the other side is a tall man with short, dark hair. His uniform is clean but clearly worn, and he wears no ribbons. Something about his face is familiar though.

"I thought I'd find you here, old pal. Feelin' fine?"

>"Who are you?'
>"You have the wrong person, I don't know you."
>"Please get off my property."
>Write in

>>90481
>who are you?
in a polite, stress free manor

>>90481
>"Who are you?

>>90481

>"Who are you?'

>>90497
You ask for his name. His expression goes from cheerful to disappointed.

"Really? Well, I guess it has been ten years. I'm Captain Edward Young. I was a private when we last met."

Suddenly memories come rushing back. Ed Young was assigned to your unit, a rookie without a hope of surviving. You got him through his first year, then lost touch during the battle for this very planet. Ten years of fighting have greyed him, not to mention toughened his hide. The thought of his once smooth and smiling face replace with one so gruff and confident almost makes you wistful.

>"Sorry, doesn't ring a bell, good day."
>"Ed Young? How the hell are ya?"
>"Please, whatever this is, I don't want any part of it."
>Write in

>>90587
>"Ed Young? How the hell are ya?"
>Why are you here?

>>90587
>How are you?
need a bit more info

>>90601
"I'm alright. Survived the Osprey intact, as you can see. Made it back to base, and was there when the New Republic fractured into what they call the Rebellion now. We've been fighting a long time. But the war, the real war, is over. We're too few in number now to do any real damage, and I'm sure as hell tired of war. May I come in?"

You see him eyeing your sitting room. You feel like even if you said no, he'd find a way in.

>Agree
>Refuse
>Write in

>>90640
>Agree
>signal for our wife o grab a shotgun while we tell her to grab drinks.

>>90640
>Agree

>>90640
Is this from a script or do you make this up? if you make this have you ever considered writing a book?
I'd love to read something like this.

>>90640
>agree

>>90703
all on the spot

>>90656
You look back into the kitchen. Your wife is there, peeking around the corner with a hand tightly gripping the archway. You nod to her, and she goes off to the other room.

You step back and let Ed enter, offering him a seat on the sofa. You shut the door and walk with him, sitting down in your armchair. The chair with your service pistol hidden neatly in the armrest.

"Nice place you have, pal. Real cozy. This your wife?" He points to a framed photo of the two of you on your wedding day. You're kissing under a shower of rice.

>"Yeah. She's a looker, eh?"
>"Tell me why you're really here."
>Write in

>>90804
>"Tell me why you're really here."

>>90804
>"Tell me why you're really here."

>>90804
yes

>>90804
>"Tell me why you're really here."

>>90822
Ed seems saddened by the shortcut smalltalk, but doesn't continue beating around the bush.

"Fine. The war is over, but not the bloodshed. They're hunting us, sir. Not you. You're KIA, as far as they know. But me, and the remains of my unit are wanted for terrorism, or so they say."

>"And you came to my home?"
>"What do you want me to do?"
>"I'm not a soldier anymore. I'm just a shepherd."
>Write in

>>90933
>"What do you want me to do?"
>"I'm not a soldier anymore. I'm just a shepherd."

>>90933
>"And you came to my home?"
For real, you could've been more subtle about the contact

>>90933
>>"And you came to my home?"
>"I'm not a soldier anymore. I'm just a shepherd."

>>90984
"I'm sorry, but frankly you're my last hope. To put it simply, we need to get off world. To Nova Tau, to be exact. It's neutral, so we'll have amnesty. If we remain within Federation territory, we'll be killed, but if we can touch down there, we're home free. So, I'm asking you, as a friend, as a comrade, and as a man. Help me get my men to safety."

He actually wants you to soldier again. To put your life on the line for someone else. To risk death for a banner.

>"Fuck no."
>"I'm sorry, but no."
>"This isn't something you just spring on someone."
>"Fine, but no killing."
>Write in

>>91119
>"Fuck no."

>>91119
>>"This isn't something you just spring on someone."

>>91119
>"This isn't something you just spring on someone. What about my family? "

>>91141
"I know! I know what you're thinking. Your wife, your work here, and I assure you, this isn't something I ask lightly. I have a handful of people, all decent riders, but none of them like you were. You were a monster, and you're the only person on this entire planet who can ride an analog machine. I know, I checked. We don't have the resources to field all of our mounts, but with you and me, both veterans, we can fight our way off world. That's all I'm asking. And, on top of it, I'm not asking for charity. I have funds. Plenty. If you do this for me, the moment one of my unit checks in at the embassy on Nova Tau, my people will transfer thirty million to your personal account. Think about that. New house, new clothes, a better life for your family. Expensive tutors, good schools, anything your kids could ever need! And all you have to do is ride with me one last time!" He stands enthusiastically, holding out his gloved hand. "Come on, a few grunts are nothing fro two men from the 303rd!"

>"You're a fucking psycho!"
>"Look, I appreciate the offer, but no. My family needs me, not money."
>"I want to say yes, but..."
>Write in

>>91269
>"I want to say yes, but..."

>>91269
>"Look, I appreciate the offer, but no. My family needs me, not money."

>>91269
>>"Look, I appreciate the offer, but no. My family needs me, not money."

>>91287
Ed is genuinely distraught, but hardly surprised. he sits back down and rests his chin on his hand for a moment, thinking about something. Eventually, he sighs and stands once more.

"Alright. I knew it was a long shot, but I had to try. Thank you for at least hearing me out. I'll leave you and yours be." He salutes, and makes is way to the door. Just then, however, the door bursts open, and two more uninvited guests come storming in. They wear blue jackets reminiscent of the New Republic uniform, but not quite the same. One is a blonde girl with a pixie cut and large bust, not to mention a mean look. The other is a young man with long, greasy hair tied into a tail to keep it out of his glasses. They are each holding a rifle, and spot Ed immediately.

Your wife pops out from around the corner, with the shotgun aimed from her hip, and her feet firmly planted. Seeing this, the two newcomers aim their rifles at her. Seeing this, you reveal the hidden pistol in your chair and stand, aiming at them. And seeing this, Ed raises his arms meekly and tries to shout for everyone to stop.

"Put the fucking gun down!" cries the blonde woman.

"You put your gun down, you little bitch!" shouts your wife.

"Yo, don't give me a reason to kill you old lady!" screams the young man.

>Shoot someone
>Stand in front of your wife
>Tell them to get out
>Write in

>>91481
>>Stand in front of your wife
>>Tell them to get out

>>91481
>Stand in front of your wife
>Tell them to get out

>>91481
>Stand in front of your wife
>Tell them to get out

>>91481
>Stand in front of your wife
>Tell them to get out

>>91492
You put yourself in front of your wife, aiming your pistol at the two newcomers.

"Baby, no!" you hear from behind, but you remain firmly planted. The two of them glance at each other, then back to you with guns steady. Ed has to put himself in front of them to get them to lower their weapons.

"That's enough! I ordered the two of you to stay outside until I came back!" he shouts, echoing through the house.

"We were gonna, but we have company," whines the young man.

"The enemy is closing in. Someone must have told them we were coming this way, and they followed us. We have to get going now!"

Ed flinches, reeling from this revelation. He scratches his chin, then turns around to look at you. You see a sparkle of hope die in his eyes.

"Fine," he comments, before turning back to the two. "There's no help for us here. Let's get moving before they burn the house down."

"Someone's gonna burn our house down?!" shouts a voice from behind. It's your daughter, eyes welling with tears. Your son, tucked neatly behind her arm, begins to cry and runs over to you.

"Daddy! I don't want our house to burn down!"

"Shit, you've got kids?" Ed moans.

>"Get the fuck out of my house!'
>"Yes, and now they're in danger because of you!"
>"Yes, and I'd like it if you didn't put them in harms way."
>Write in

>>91575
>"Yes, and now they're in danger because of you!"

I seriously hope Ed gets shot in the fucking face.

>>91575
>"Yes, and now they're in danger because of you!"
>You even said ". Expensive tutors, good schools, anything your kids could ever need!" Ed you are a god damn motherfucking moron!
>cover our kids ears

>>91575
>>"Yes, and I'd like it if you didn't put them in harms way."

>>91575
>"Yes, and now they're in danger because of you!"
>Tell the kids and wife you'll be back, sense if your found the entire family is in danger?

>>91608
Oh yeah, he did didn't he. Changing my vote >>91628 to >"Yes, and now they're in danger because of you!"

>>91590
Ed recoils in shame and uncertainty. He looks over to his two friends, sees the looks of determination on their faces, and then suddenly straightens out again.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know," he says solemnly, then turns to his friends. "Come on, we need to draw them away from here." He reaches into his jacket and produces a pistol, then leads the other two out through the front door. You hear shouting, then gunfire as errant rounds shatter your windows and pierce your walls. You and your family hit the dirt, and the kids scream in terror.

>Tell them all to get to the cellar
>Cover them with your body
>Try to wave down the Fed troopers
>Write in

>>91658
>>Cover them with your body

>>91658
>Tell them all to get to the cellar
Or if we don't have enough time
>Cover them with your body

>>91673
basically this

>>91658
Voting this >>91673

>>91673
You take the shotgun from your wife and tell her to get the kids somewhere safe. She nods, and helps them crawl through the kitchen to the cold pantry below. You load a shell into the gun, and crawl on your belly to try and get a view of what's happening outside.

Just through the door frame, you spot Ed and his sprinting across the field, stopping occasionally to open fire. On the other side, not twenty yards away, are about six men with automatics, firing back.

Suddenly you hear a scream from the cold pantry. You get to your feet and rush over, sliding down the ladder and spotting your family, son and daughter holding one another in the corner as your wife is grappled by a uniformed Fed trooper. He must have entered through the outside doors looking for more of Ed's men.

"Hey! Drop the gun!" he shouts, holding your wife at gunpoint.

>Put it down, but not the pistol
>Put both down
>"Listen, we have nothing to do with those people."
>Write in

>>91716
>>Put it down, but not the pistol
>"Listen, we have nothing to do with those people."

>>91716
>Put it down, but not the pistol
>"Listen, we have nothing to do with those people."

>>91716
voting this >>91719

>>91716
>Put it down, but not the pistol
>"Listen, we have nothing to do with those people."

>>91719
You drop the shotgun and show your hands. You try to tell the trooper you aren't with the rebels, but he refuses to listen.

"All of you, climb out and wait for me with your hands-"

Seizing the chance, your wife elbows the bastard in the gut, and runs over to you, throwing herself into your arms. The trooper staggers, then begins to right himself with a shout of rage, bring his gun up to level with you.

>Shoot him
>Protect her
>Write in

>>91739
>Protect her
Including whatever that entails.

>>91739
>Protect her

>>91739
>Protect her
by
>Shooting him

>>91747
You come around in front of her and hear the roar of the rifle as hot lead pierces your back. You fall sideways onto the ground, unable to command your body. Your breathing becomes shallow, and the kids fall to their knees, crawling over to beg you to get back up. You can't speak to reassure them, nor your wife, who has collapsed where she stood and is screaming bloody murder.

You remember the last time you were shot. It didn't feel as cold as this does. But it did suddenly go dark and quiet. Just like this.

>>91770
Gonna stop here and get some rest. Feeback is appreciated, this was only meant to be a one shot for as long as it lasted, but I might continue it if I think there's an audience and an idea worth getting into.

Thanks to everyone who participated!

>>91772
Thanks for running QM! I had fun with the quest, so if you do decide to continue with it I'll make a point to try and participate when I catch you running.

>>91772
This was real good. Archive it and get yourself a Twitter handle.

>>91772
Like i said yesterday, this is really good and i had fun participating while i could.
Would really like seeing you're name floating around qst.

>>91772
I liked it. Please continue.

>>92113
I have one, and I run another quest, this was just something to stretch my creativity a bit. But people seem to like it, so I'll seriously consider keeping it for a while

>>93068
Just read through all of this and it's dam good, would be nice if it could continue though I can see good shit coming out of this

>>91772
>>93068
This was really good, I just finished reading through it. You're a damn good writer, if you really pulled all of this from on top of your head.

I'm definitely interested in reading more if you are interested in continuing.

I suppose first things first I need to name these characters...

>>95076
Sweet I'm diging this story a